Random Smutty Adventures Aboard The Normandy
by Grace Kay
Summary: Unpopular and unlikely pairings abound! Mature series of one-shots cooked up by my wicked, wicked muse.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Bit of a long intro. Sorry about that._

_Okay. So. Had a fellow author dub me Queen of Smut (I'm looking at you, fahRENheit2006), and while I humbly decline that title, it is true that I love writing smut. And that I got my start writing by writing erotic material. I've moved on to writing deeper, more emotional stuff - with plot, even! - but I do still love smut, and it's rare that it doesn't enter my writing. And I have a depraved little muse giving me all kinds of ideas._

_It is also true that I am a fan of writing unpopular or seeming-unlikely pairings. So my muse. She came up with this idea. And it sounds too fun to pass up._

_I am going to write as many one-shots as I can, which may or may not be connected to each other, of unpopular or unlikely pairings. And **I am taking**_**_ requests_. **_First request has already been made by Raven Sinead. Second by LannMelo. If you have a request, please PM it to me and I'll see if my muse latches on to it. I can't guarantee I'll write every one y'all make, but I'll certainly consider it._

_Rules:_

_1) F/F or F/M. I'm not going to attempt M/M smut at this time (this may change later)._

_2) Unusual means pairings you don't see too often, or people who are not in any way ever involved in-game. No Garrus/Tali, for instance._

_3) No Shepard. _

_4) Keep the numbers down. 2-3 tops, for now (two couples swinging would also be okay). If you feel **really** strongly about a certain four or more-some you can PM me, but I'm not sure I'm up to that right now._

_5) Kink welcome, though I can't promise I'll go to a particular kink or fetish, but I'm certainly open. It can also be exceedingly romantic, or both, or none. Just let me know what you're thinking._

_6) Feel free to give me a scenario. Like, some history or sexual tension or flirting that's been going on between the characters mentioned._

_7) Not gonna write non-con._

_Is this silly? Yes. Do I care? Nope. Just... please don't judge my depraved little brain..._

_And now, without further ado, the inaugural chapter, which my own inner hedonist decided to request._

* * *

Samantha was actually tapping her foot, she was so impatient. It had been a long day, and she really was only interested in one thing to take the edge off. If she could, she would have sex with a wonderfully beautiful woman, but she was fresh out of those. So in the meantime, she had worked out a little arrangement with… an unlikely partner.

Her omnitool suddenly chirped, and bringing up the message, she grinned. _"Meet me behind the giant supply crates in the shuttle bay."_

She was already wet in anticipation. _Of course, that could be because you've been thinking about being man-handled with a very real chance of being caught for the last three hours, Sammy._ No matter. That would just make it more fun.

God, she was going to come so hard she wouldn't be able to walk straight. _Not that you do anything else straight_. She chuckled at her own joke.

Finally, _finally_, her replacement showed up, a young ensign who was even more wet-behind-the-ears that Sam herself was, and she was free. All she had to do was show him what she'd done all day – which had really kind of been fuck-all – and she was on her way.

Stepping onto the lift, Samantha hit the button for the shuttle bay, her heart already beginning to hammer in her chest. _Who knew I would ever grow to look forward to this so much?_

_Desperate times, Sammy. That, and one very talented partner._

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, and it was with a wildly beating heart that she nearly skipped off the lift when it opened. Pulling up her omnitool so it looked like she was on an errand, she walked right past James and Steve with a murmured greeting. Once to the back of the bay, she slipped into the space that had been cleverly made for her between some very tall crates and the wall, entirely hidden from view. She then waited impatiently, her mind awhirl in the possibilities of just how this would go down.

Suddenly a large shadow fell on her, and she turned with a smirk pulling at her lips. "God, I've been waiting all-"

She didn't even get to finish. Hands on her hips, James pulled her in, leaning down and covering her lips with his. Rather than being rude, the move sent a hot pulse of desire _straight_ to her clitoris. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she kissed him back, marveling even after having done this many times before that he felt and tasted so different from any woman she'd ever been with. The women, while all different from each other, had a common thread of softness, even the strong butch ones who would lift her up and throw her on the bed or hold her down and make her submit. They all still treated her like a lady, like she was just a little bit fragile. But this… James was all hard muscle and tongue and teeth and unadulterated desire.

At her behest, James did _not_ treat her like a lady, and it was _exhilarating_.

His tongue ravaged her mouth now, his teeth scraping along her lower lip as she tried in vain to keep up with him. It was like she was being consumed, maybe even a little bit used, but for some reason that just pulled on the line leading directly from his hands to her clit, making it throb for attention. And given the bulge she felt where their hips met, he obviously felt the same way.

He moved lower, biting her neck, sucking in the delicate flesh and biting until she almost couldn't hold back the noises she was so desperate to make. Then he did it again, and again, pulling open her shirt and moving the possessive marks down to her breasts. He held her arms still now, not allowing her to touch him, and the fact that he really could hold her still, that she really couldn't get out of his grasp unless he let her sent her heart into overdrive.

Samantha really needed him to fuck her now. Right now.

Almost as if reading her mind, he pulled back, smirking at his handiwork before abruptly turning her around to face the wall. Her heart thumped into her throat as his hands roughly found the fastening of her fatigues, undoing them in one smooth, practiced motion. Then they were being yanked down _just_ past her ass, and all she could do as he bent her over was brace herself on the wall in front of her.

A miniscule grunt escaped his lips behind her, the familiar sound of his own fatigues being unfastened. Samantha's heart found an altogether new gear as it pounded in anticipation. She could feel her own pulse in her sex, pounding lightning-fast as his fingers dug into her bare hips. She felt him press against her labia, felt him start to slide past them toward her entrance, and then, with one quick shove, he was buried in her to the hilt.

She had to muffle her yell, biting her knuckles and letting her eyes roll up as her other hand supported her against the wall. James wasted no time, his fingers digging into her hips even harder as he pulled out of her. Then her hips were moving back, and he met them, burying himself inside her once more. James was a very well-endowed man, and the feeling of being so very full after hours of tormenting herself by anticipating this very feeling made Sam want to pass out. Instead she focused on the feeling, closing her eyes and picturing them in her mind's eye. Even as a lesbian, there'd always been something about a lesbian taking it from a man that had short-circuited her brain, sending her directly from zero to sixty.

_Being_ part of that fantasy? _God, I never thought it would be this good._

The feeling of James inside of her intensified as soon as she closed her eyes. His fingers were going to leave bruises all around her hips, but that really only excited her more. She could feel him pull out, feel him push in, trying to split her in two. Really, given how often these encounters had happened, it was amazing it still felt quite like this.

The first time had, of course, been entirely drunken. They'd been at Purgatory, dancing, drinking, getting flirty. Samantha always got flirty when she was drunk. And he was just so cute, the way he responded to it. What she hadn't planned was crawling into his lap when he found a seat and she couldn't. She'd kissed him at some point, she couldn't remember why, and then they'd spent a good solid ten minutes with her straddling his lap, making out, his giant hands pawing literally everywhere he could reach. She'd been so turned on – and so drunk – that she had merely panted for him to take her somewhere and fuck her brains out please, and James had obliged.

They'd ended up sneaking back on to the _Normandy_ and going down to the Engineering subdeck. He had pulled off every bit of her clothes and spent the next half-hour veritably worshipping her body. In the end, she had spent a few minutes bouncing up and down on his lap, grinding him inside of her until she had a monstrous orgasm. Once she'd come down from it, he had pumped away a few times, releasing his own pent-up arousal inside of her with a few grunts and gasps.

That had been that. Samantha had been hooked. It wasn't that she was suddenly attracted to men in general, but she was attracted to James, possibly because of what she knew he could do for her? She wasn't sure, and frankly didn't care all that much. It felt good, and it was no-strings-attached. She didn't want to marry him. She just wanted to fuck him.

Daily.

In a manner which just got filthier and filthier with time.

Leading them to here and now, where they were fucking where anyone could find them, with her trousers pulled just far enough out of the way for him to have access. They didn't even exchange words. He just used her like this, at her urging. They'd been going at it long enough – every day for weeks now – that he knew exactly what she liked, and it happened to fall in the column of Things James Liked as well. So they did this, barely in private, every day, the thrill sending them both over the edge rather quickly.

She felt him brushing against her cervix now. He was being so far from gentle that she might had trouble walking when they were done, but that only sent a throb straight to her completely neglected clit. That was purposeful, too. Out of the two of them, Sam was actually the one with the weaker stamina, unlike most women, and so he had learned not to touch her clit in order to stave off her orgasm.

Not that she couldn't keep going if she came once. But the orgasm denial thing was pretty hot, she had to admit. She kind of liked it better than multiples.

She could feel herself building now even without her clit's involvement, the constant, rough assault on her g-spot – he'd gotten quite good at _that_, too – enough to make her feel like she needed to explode. His strokes were losing their evenness, their control, and she knew he was getting pretty close, as well. Pretty soon, he'd reach around and-

"Oh," Sam sighed, all the noise she allowed herself to make, as there were _people_ out there who might hear them. James' hand had moved from her hip, and she could feel him curved around her, his hot breath on her neck as his fingers found her clit. Grinding against it _mercilessly_, more like.

She came about five seconds later, her inner walls clenching _hard_ around his girth. He continued to grind mercilessly against her clit, his cock pressed firmly into her g-spot, his hips no longer moving, and she felt like that was her only contact with the world. The rest of her flew into the air, the ground falling away from beneath her feet. She was free falling, her only concern the spasming in her center and the corresponding waves of pleasure rocking through her body.

As she began to come down, she realized James' hand had stilled on her clit, his own body spasming inside of her. She felt his release, and it only served to prolong the aftershocks of her orgasm. The heat from his body, the closeness of him as he remained bent over her, thrilled her even though she was more or less _done_ with sex for the moment. She had a refractory period like anyone else did, but sometimes the naughtiness of what she was doing would send a thrill through her even after the deed was done. She generally held onto that thrill, conjuring it in her mind later on so as to put her in the mood once more.

James was through now, his forehead rested gently against her, panting toward her neck, washing her in the scent of his breath. She smiled. The fight had gone out of him, as it always did. Now was the time when the gentleman in James came out, and that kind of thrilled her, as well. She wouldn't be interested in this if he _actually_ treated her like a piece of meat.

"That was…" he breathed, trailing off and groaning softly.

She chuckled. "Yes, yes, it really was," she whispered back. His arms now lay loosely around her waist, holding her gently so she didn't strain her back with his weight on her like it was.

After a moment more to catch their breaths, he stood, rummaging in his pocket. Then he slowly, gently slid out of her, a handkerchief immediately replacing his relaxing manhood. Cleaning her as thoroughly he could, he stepped away, redoing his pants while she herself finally stood up straight.

Pulling her pants up the rest of the way, Samantha smiled, refastening her fatigues and shirt before placing a hand on his chest affectionately. "Thank you, James."

He smiled, folding the handkerchief and replacing it in his pocket. "No problem, Sam. Beer later?"

"Ooooo, yes, I'd love to. Who else?"

"Ken, Gabby, Garrus, Joker… you know, the usual."

She nodded, moving past him. "Sounds like a plan. See you later." Feeling a little loose, a lot happy, and _very_ relaxed, Sam made her way to the lift – and eventually a shower – with a sloppy grin. This… this was the _best_ kind of stress release. Amazing, no-strings-attached sex, followed by beer with friends.


	2. Chapter 2

"Odds or evens, sweetheart. It's one or the other. The game has even chances one way or the other. Can't stack these cards."

Kasumi smirked. "So you seem to think, Massani."

He frowned. "You didn't try, did you?"

She sighed dramatically. "Yes, I did. And you're right. The program is so simple you can't rig it."

He snorted a laugh. "Goddamn right. So. Odds or evens?"

"Odds."

He nodded, reaching over and hitting the button on the game of chance they were playing. It took a second for the thing to give them their card, but when it did, a bright and beautiful – and virtual – eight of hearts shimmered in the air between them.

"Drink up, sweetheart," Zaeed urged, shoving a shot of hard liquor toward her.

They played a few more rounds, Zaeed losing once, Kasumi twice, before he got a look in his eye. "You know," the grizzled old mercenary said, putting down the beer from which he'd just taken a deep drink. "We could make this a lot more interesting."

Kasumi raised a brow. She was feeling all her drinks, slight – and of Japanese descent – as she was. It made her feel a little stupid, but also… playful. Not that she wasn't always playful.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Raise the stakes, as it were," he said, still not telling her what he had in mind.

"In what way?"

"Strip," he almost grunted.

Suddenly, it all made sense. It was so funny she actually laughed out loud.

"What?" he gruffed.

"Oh, Zaeed, you're precious!" Kasumi exclaimed, putting a hand on his wrist. "This… this is your idea of _flirting_!"

He chuckled. "Better than coming out and just asking, isn't it? I put effort into this, dammit."

She smirked. "If you want to have sex with me, I'd rather you just come out and say it, Massani."

He got a calculating look. "Alright, Goto. Fine. What would you say to having a little fun tonight? Break up the monotony of all these missions Shepard's not taking us on? I promise it will be mutually fulfilling."

Pushing herself from the bar, she gracefully slid around to the other side, her steps measured despite the several shots she'd had. "Maybe it's the alcohol talking," she said, slinking between his knees as he sat on a stool, "but that sounds like the _perfect_ way to spend the rest of the night."

His hands found her hips as her hands landed on his shoulders. She felt herself being drawn closer, one of his hands guiding one leg and then the other so that she was drawn into his lap, and then his lips were on hers. The scent and flavor of tobacco and liquor washed over her, his hot, wet lips sending a thrill down her spine. Zaeed wasn't her normal type – Keiji had been sensitive, willing to let her take the lead in most things without being a total doormat – but tonight, with the alcohol in her system and her respect for him professionally, she was _very_ into the idea.

Her hands played over his arms, feeling the large muscles. He wore a tight t-shirt, military-style fatigues, and combat boots. Simple, and yet the whole package came together with his scent and heat in an entirely desirable way. He pulled her closer, and she could feel the hard planes of his muscled chest and stomach, even through the fabric of their shirts. Her heart began to pound against her ribs, anticipation heating her blood.

He was so sure of himself as he kissed her, his tongue darting out to taste her mouth, his hands wrapped around her. She was very small compared to him, at least six inches shorter, and yet she did not feel overpowered. He was… _appreciating_ her, his hands moving now from her shoulders down her back, sweeping along the curve of her ribs to her hips, sliding back around and getting a good handful of her ass. But it was like… it was like he was appreciating a fine whiskey and cigar, taking his time, instead of smoking a cigarette as fast as he could.

She kissed him back, remarking inwardly with a bit of a smirk that he was a quintessential man's man, big and muscled and smelling of masculine things. Under the tobacco and alcohol was something else, some delicate scent of musk that made her think of sweat and dirt, and she suddenly _needed_ to be out of her clothes.

Pulling back, panting a little, Kasumi noticed how, while he didn't let go, he also didn't protest, letting her put a little distance between them. He had an easy confidence, the kind where he just didn't give a shit about what someone else might think of him. She wanted to be close to that calm swagger. She had her own, of course, far more playful than his. But she was tired of covering up her sadness with playfulness. She just wanted to feel good for an hour and have it be genuine, simple.

She was tired of complicated emotions.

"Well, as lovely as this is, I think I'm gonna need more of you, Massani," she purred, watching with delight as his pupils grew larger, his eyes swimming with desire.

Zaeed grinned, the smile pulling the scars on his face so that it looked almost sinister. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," he growled, his normally gruff voice coming from deep in his throat. It sent a thrill through the thief, heightened when he abruptly stood up, keeping Kasumi where she was, her knees squeezing his hips to help keep her aloft, though it was obvious that supporting her weight was an easy task for him. He kept his eyes on hers as he walked over to her bed, lowering her slowly and depositing her there.

"What are you into, love?"

It was a simple question, but it was _everything_. No assumptions, no masculine stupidity about "knowing how she wants it" even though they didn't know each other that well.

Kasumi smirked. "You can start with your shirt, big man."

He laughed, standing up and kicking off his boots before peeling his t-shirt off. Kasumi did the same, her thin tanktop and yoga pants hitting the floor, leaving her bare-breasted in thin cotton panties. His eyes raked over her body, but it wasn't enough. She wanted his callused hands and his hot tongue to go everywhere his eyes traveled.

Raising an eyebrow, Kasumi finally answered him properly. "I liked what you were doing before, Massani."

He grinned. "I think I can manage that."

Smirking, Kasumi sat up, reaching for his waist. "Then let's get rid of these, shall we?" The sound of his buckle being undone, his zipper falling, filled the room, and then she had him in-hand. He was… well, a good size, not overly large, but big enough that she would surely have some fun with him. She began to lean down, to take him in her mouth, but he disappeared, backing away with a smirk and removing his pants and undergarments. Then he was kneeling on the bed, his rough hands sliding up her legs before he removed her underwear.

"Oh!" Kasumi yelped, her head hitting the pillow as he yanked her knees back sharply. Then his face was buried between her legs, and it was all she could do to hold on. His tongue fluttered over her labia briefly, finding her incredibly wet and lubricated already. Humming, he ventured further, eliciting a half giggle, half-exclamation as his tongue pressed against the button of her clitoris.

She threaded her fingers through the short bristles of his hair, finally giving up on finding a handhold and just lightly grazing her nails over his scalp. He growled at the sensation, spurred further on in his quest to _consume_ her clit and labia. His face was likely a mess, but he clearly didn't care. He merely took her into his mouth, sucking and nipping and licking and savoring her until she was nearly ready to burst.

"Please, I need…" she panted, trailing off in a sigh as his tongue buried itself inside of her. Abruptly he pulled back, crawling further up on top of her. His hot breath washed over her, her own scent filling her nostrils. She always loved the smell of herself on her lover's lips.

"What was it you needed, Goto?" he teased. She could feel him hovering over her, his manhood pressing against the sparse pubic hair adorning her labia. Moving slightly, she tried to push him past them a bit, but he moved with her, a smirk pulling at his face.

She raised a brow. "Really, Massani? You need me to tell you?"

"No. But I want to hear it."

Kasumi giggled. "Fair enough. Alright, then. I want you to fuck me, Zaeed. I need to feel you inside of me, filling me up, and I need to have this massive orgasm you've built me up to."

He grinned. "Well then," he said, not finishing his sentence as he instead lowered himself, pinning her hips with his own. His hand ventured down, lining himself up with her entrance, and then his lips were on hers, his manhood pushing inside of her.

Just as she suspected, Zaeed was a lovely fit, not too large, but presenting a pleasant stretch as he slid inside of her. He grunted into her mouth as he bottomed out, eliciting a slight whimper from her. No more words were spoken, though, his hips merely starting to move, working in and out of her in a slow rhythm.

Her hands went everywhere, his back, powerful shoulders, muscled arms, her nails scratching his scalp once more. He was warm and heavy and his taste and scent and very _presence_ consumed her. She could feel him moving along her inner walls, feel his hips meet hers, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching as his body moved. After only a minute or so, however, it wasn't enough. He wasn't deep enough, wasn't fast enough, wasn't hitting her in just the right way she needed, and was making no move for her clit. There wasn't even room for _her_ to reach her clit.

Pulling away from his ravishing of her mouth, she put her hands on his shoulders, moving her legs up to squeeze his hips, stopping his motion.

"What's wrong?" he gruffed, looking slightly annoyed.

She just grinned. "Roll over, big man."

He furrowed his brows for a moment before comprehension dawned. Grinning, he wrapped a big arm around her waist and rolled, taking her with him to the other side of her bed.

"That better?"

Grinning, Kasumi pushed herself up and ground down on him, delighting as his eyes immediately tried to roll back in his head. "Yes, much."

_This_ was what she needed. She had him buried as deep as he would go, and it was open season on her clit. The grizzled mercenary had his hands on both thighs now, merely resting there as she began to sway, moving him inside of her. Rocking back and forth, she ground him against her g-spot, one hand on his muscled chest as the other began a light tease of her clit. This was not the bouncing up-an-down seen in porn. This was _all_ about what was happening inside of her, the pounding of her blood, the flushed heat of her skin.

He merely watched her, grunting and grimacing in that way men did when things felt good. Smirking, she sped up a little, delighting when one of his hands moved to tweak a nipple.

"Did you want me to?" he asked, his other hand drifting between her legs to join her own hand.

She shook her head, flexing and grinding down on him once again. "I got it. I'm… oh, God, I'm really close."

He smirked. "You telling me I last longer than the woman?"

Raising herself up just a little so she could get more leverage to take him deeper, she nodded. "Just… oh… add it to the list of ways your are _all_ man, Massani."

He grinned, his hand gripping her hip as his other continued to fondle her breast. "Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you on my cock."

That was all it took. Something about him inside her, his scent, the feel of him underneath her, the growl of his voice… it all combined with the sensations from her clit to push her over the edge. Her whole body flexed, trying to pitch her off of him as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body, rippling out from her center. It seemed an eternity, but then suddenly she collapsed, boneless, pitching forward onto Zaeed's chest, his cock still buried half inside her.

"Good girl," he chuckled, slightly mocking, but she didn't have the energy for a comeback.

"Just finish," she murmured, gasping when he took hold of her hips and began pumping upward into her. His rhythm was fast, and she could feel his whole body tensing, building toward his own release. She couldn't deny that it felt good, but he was no longer hitting all the right spots to build her back up to another orgasm. Instead, she had the most delightful of aftershocks, the sensations playing along her labia as his movements got faster and faster.

Finally, he grunted, jerking out of her. She felt him, warm and wet, against her sex, and it made her purr, burying her face in his neck for a moment, surrounding her post-orgasmic brain in his scent. They stayed that way, panting, catching their breaths, for several minutes before they finally began to move.

Rolling back over, Zaeed found his feet, silently pulling his pants on, his shirt, pushing his feet into his boots. Kasumi merely stayed where she was, knowing her bedcovers were now a mess but not really caring. It had felt good, had taken her out of her own head for a little bit, and she was grateful for that. But he was clearly not of a mind to stick around, and in all honesty, she didn't want him to. It had been fun, but she wanted to be alone. This wasn't love, and he wasn't the right person.

"Thanks, Massani. Maybe again some time?"

He smirked, gathering her clothes and setting them lightly at the foot of the bed, and oddly considerate gesture. "Any time, Kasumi. 'Night."

He walked out, leaving her alone as sleep rapidly overtook her. Smiling as she fell asleep, she saw the image of Keiji resting next to her.

_Sleep well, love_, he seemed to say.

* * *

_A/N: This request brought to you by Sun-Tsu Toriden._

_So I didn't initially intend to write so much hetero smut, like, ever in my life, but I've gained a little confidence with it and also have one hell of a beta to help me make sure it's realistic and not too porn-like (this is erotica. It's different, dammit). So, by pure chance, this fic starts with two chapters of m/f pairings. If you aren't into that, I apologize. The next one will likely be f/f, because most of my requests are actually two women, I just... I dunno. Depraved little muse off touching herself in the corner, I guess. I can't help it. This was the request I latched onto first._

_I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to keep requesting things, even if you already have before. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

The water bubbles around me, the heat soothing, the pressure from the jets suggestive and tantalizing. There are people in here with me, however, so I can only close my eyes and imagine what I'd like to happen in this giant tub of heated water. Shepard is here, Liara in her lap. I _know_ there is hanky-panky happening under the water as we pretend to converse, and it turns me on, but I can do nothing. Nothing is happening outwardly except small talk. I am just a complete horndog with my imagination running wild, so I let it happen. _Someone_ should be getting laid.

A certain woman has caught my eye throughout the evening. Well, two, really. I've been getting looks from both of them. But where one is seductive and enticing, the other is predatory and… _thrilling_. I'm in the entirely-unfamiliar situation of perhaps getting to choose. Which one do I want? Do I even have the motivation to figure it out? Surely the jets will make my decision for me if I just keep sitting here?

"Excuse me," a voice, low and feminine, purrs somewhere above me. I look up to see the sultry woman with the luscious black hair falling in waves over her bare shoulders. She isn't wearing much, her bra and panties putting long stretches of creamy white skin on display.

_Say something say something say something say something_.

"Yes?" I manage to croak out, wondering if my nose is bleeding. It could, you know. The heat, the dramatic stretching of my sinuses while in this position, the amazing breasts I want to press my face into…

"I was wondering if I might join you in here." The voice has a distinct Australian drawl to her voice.

"Oh! Um, sure," I say, thanking the heat so I can blame my blush on that. "Let me make some room for you." I scoot over, sad I'm leaving my new favorite spot, but such is life. As the woman steps in and sits down, Liara suddenly stands, taking Shepard by the hand.

They are gone without a word, presumably to go fuck in one of the giant beds I've seen throughout the apartment. They leave me alone with this raven-haired beauty.

_Shit what do I do?_

_Close your mouth, Sam. That's a good girl. Don't want to catch any flies while you ogle._

"So… I'm Samantha, by the way," I say, immediately hearing myself and inwardly cringing. This woman is all smooth confidence, and I'm a bluthery mess. But she smiles back, removing a hand from the water and holding it out to me. It's so polite. Perhaps I mistook those glances as mere… wanderings of the eye?

"Miranda Lawson," she murmurs in response. I swear I know that name, but I can't quite place why.

Ah, well. Not important now, I suppose.

I smile. "It's nice to meet you, Miranda."

"Shove over, Cheerleader."

I glance up again to see the other woman who I had caught glances from. I know her by sight, as she had been with the students saved from Grissom. She'd spent an entire afternoon on the ship, swearing and wandering and saying hello to old friends. I never did get her name though.

Most notable about her appearance had been her hair and tattoos. The hair remains tied back, but the tattoos are even more on display now. The woman wears not a stitch of clothing. I feel my face flush again as I try not to stare at the bare, tattooed juncture of her legs. It had to hurt. All of it had to have hurt. Right? _You keep using that as an excuse not to get a tattoo, Sam. But you're a big girl, in the military during wartime. It's almost required you get __**something**__ permanently tattooed on your skin._

Miranda's expression sours a little when she sets eyes on the new woman. "Jack, what do you want?"

_That's her name! That's right!_

The new woman grins, her eyes – actually a rather lovely shade of chocolate – traveling over to me. "I wanted to sit in the hot tub, hotcakes. Or is this a private session?"

I blush furiously at the implications of that, even though Miranda and I are across the hot tub from each other. Miranda, it seems, is incensed, however, her pale skin flushing hot as she glares. Jack seems to not see, instead merely stepping into the water and moving far closer to me than she needs to. Leaning back, she _aaahhh_s, her elbows on the rim of the tub, putting her arm nearly around my shoulders. The hand there immediately finds the ties to my swim top – I had come to this party intending to spend a fair amount of it in this tub of heated water – and begins to toy with them.

It sends a shiver down my spine.

"I'm Jack," she said simply.

Something about her manner makes me feel … owned. She had come in here, naked as the day she'd been born, and put her arm around me like she owned me. As I watch her grin smugly over at Miranda, I see that they are in competition; Jack's arm around my shoulder, touching me so intimately and yet casually, is her way of staking her territory. I watch Miranda's eyes admit defeat, her head turn away.

_Holy shit why is that so hot?_

When had I become the target of a fierce competition between two devastatingly beautiful – in very different ways – women? Why does it excite me?

"I… forgot my drink," Miranda mutters, standing abruptly and removing herself from the hot tub. I watch her underwear cling as she wraps a towel around her waist. But then I have no more time to watch. She falls out of my head as she leaves the room, quietly closing the door and leaving me alone with this… _creature_ I don't quite know what to do with.

It is quiet for a few moments. Jack continues to toy with the ties to my swim top, her fingers grazing my skin. Her breasts are floating atop the water somewhat, making the tops of them highly visible. They are enticing. The fact that she does not make a move, does not even look at me, makes me want her even more.

What will she do? I get the feeling that this woman is the type to utterly _consume_ her partners, chew them up and spit them out and keep going. Am I up to that? _You could walk away, Sam. Just get up, leave the room, seek out Miranda and have yourself a lovely evening with a soft Australian who is more interested in seducing you than in taking you._

_Jack wants to take me. Have me. Use me._

_Say something say something say something say something._

"You're the one who found us," Jack says, finally breaking the silence, finally looking over to me. Her hand does not leave my neck.

I blink stupidly. "I… what?"

She smirks. "You found me and the kids, at Grissom. We woulda been toast if you hadn't figured out whatever plan that fuckface the Illusive Man cooked up."

"Oh. Um… yes, I found the signal. EDI helped me figure it out."

She smiles, the first genuine one I've seen. "I appreciate that. I'm good, but I couldn't get my kids out of there, and it was driving me crazy."

"Um… you're welcome," I mumble. Her face is closer now. Has my heart stopped? Or is it going so fast I can't detect it?

"So… can I show you my gratitude?" She is only inches away now, her hand no longer toying with the ties of my top, instead fully resting on the back of my neck. A shiver runs down my spine. If her breath or tongue replaces her hand, I will be instantly ready to be fucked. God, how did she find that spot so quickly?

I play dumb. I don't know what else to do. "Um… your word is enough thanks."

Her eyes dance. _Holy shit she's enjoying this_. "I had something else in mind."

Her lips are on me in a flash. I moan, closing my eyes, tasting the alcohol on her breath, the wet heat of her mouth completely stealing from me any ability to think rationally. Her hand moves up into my hair, fisting it lightly, her other hand reaching around and fluttering over my stomach before wrapping around my waist. Her tongue invades my mouth, and I am powerless to stop it.

Suddenly she pulls back, smirking as I pant to catch my breath. "Fuck," I whisper, closing my eyes as her hand tightens in my hair, pulling my head back.

"That's sorta the idea, cupcake," she growls, lowering her face to start suckling at my throat. She is completely straddling my lap now, but I have no memory of when that happened. I am simply suddenly aware of the proximity of her body, her naked thighs buoyant above my lap, the (_probably imagined_) heat of her sex hovering near my own.

Does she even know my name? I don't think I ever actually said my name, not to her. As her teeth begin working in earnest in the hollow of my throat, I realize that this is even more tantalizing, more thrilling. She isn't seducing me. She is getting ready to _take_ me. She doesn't even really care who I am.

I feel her breasts push up against me as she releases my throat with a _pop_. She brings her face back up until she is bent over me, still pulling my head back by my hair. Her tongue pushes into my mouth, ravishing me. It is all I can do to keep up.

I try to move my hands to caress her skin, but as soon as my fingers reach her waist I feel a strange vibration along my skin. Against my will my arms lift. I yelp, confused. She pulls back only enough to speak.

"Don't worry. Just biotics," she growls, then goes right back to ravishing my mouth with her tongue, her breasts pressed into my throat. All I can see above me is the ceiling and her hairline, so I close my eyes, enjoying this feeling. For some reason I don't feel afraid, even though I am literally being held in place, her rippling, vibrating biotics pinning my wrists together in the air above my head.

She leaves my mouth, leaves me panting, traveling down to my ear. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart," she whispers. It is not an endearment. It is a tease, a mocking way of placing herself further into the dominant role. It is exhilarating.

"I… I…" Her hand plays over my breast, the other finally letting go of my hair in favor of the ties to my top. She sits back, holding my gaze as I lower my head. I merely nod, giving her permission. Smirking, she takes it, and I feel the ties unravel, my breasts falling free, bobbing atop the water as my top drifts lazily down to my waist through the water. Then her hands are on me, and I am truly unable to think past the sensations.

My hands pinned by biotics, my body pinned by her body, I feel utterly under her spell. I'm so wet already that she could probably just bend me over and fuck me with no warm up.

The thought alone hitches my breath, and I squeeze my thighs together.

Or perhaps that was because her mouth _finally_ found my nipple just now? My breasts have always been very sensitive, and now is no exception. As she licks, laves, and sucks, I can _feel_ the floodgates opening. God, she's barely touched me in the grand scheme of things, and I'm _so_ ready. It's embarrassing.

A thought occurs to me. Is she only interested because of whatever it was I saw between her and Miranda? Or had she seen me before Miranda did, and their rivalry only fueled her on?

Her hand traveling down between us ceases my brain's line of questioning. _Who the hell cares, Sam? She's here now, and paying all her attention to __**you**__. So do her the courtesy of the same with your own attention, alright?_

She's suddenly off of me. Furrowing my brows, I am about to say something when her hands find my hips, guiding me to stand. My hands no longer stay up of their own accord, though they are effectively _tied_, the buzz of her biotics still present.

"Turn around, cupcake," she growls, brown eyes flashing as they take in the upper half of my body. The water laps at the top of my swim bottoms. It's the most revealing thing I've ever worn, but in the main party I had shorts and a t-shirt on, so any glances I drew were to a rather normally-dressed Samantha Traynor. Now, though? Now I feel like I am being consumed, and Jack isn't even touching me.

I do as she says, turning to face away from her. Her hands alight on my hips, and I'm being yanked roughly backwards, her naked body pressing and molding to my own. She growls slightly in my ear, and then I feel her teeth at the back of my neck. That _spot_. My knees nearly give out and I can't catch myself because my wrists are still bound in rippling biotics, but her arms wrap around me, her hands roughly playing with my breasts, pinching my nipples, and she keeps me upright. I am going to be _covered_ in love bites tomorrow. Will they show in my uniform? They'll certainly show when my shorts and t-shirt are back on tonight.

_Holy shit_, I realize, closing my eyes and pushing myself further against her. _She's marking me. She is literally staking her claim to me. Miranda will see this when I go back out there. __**Everyone**__ will see it. _

I whimper at the realization. Why is that so fucking hot?

Her mouth and then her body disappear, and a genuine, loud whimper escapes me at the loss of contact. I hear a snicker, try to look around, but then her hand is in my hair, _keeping_ me faced forward. Except that's not all, because she keeps up the pressure, bending me over until I have no choice but to place my elbows on the floor outside the hot tub before I fall on my face.

"Good girl," Jack purrs, and I think now that my bathing suit bottoms are completely ruined. Her hand leaves my hair and I feel both of them come down hard on my ass, and I _know_ that these bottoms are ruined. God, I am so wet…

Then the bottoms are gone, a flash of blue light making it clear that Jack isn't willing to simply pull the things down. _Well, I still have my shorts, at least…_ The string around my midsection is pulled, allowing the top to fall off, which I'm thankful for. When this is over, my breasts really need _some_ support under that t-shirt.

A leg presses between my knees, urging me to spread my legs, and then I am completely on display, my breasts dangling, my ass up in the air while I stand on my toes in the water. My vulva is just above the water. Every time she moves I feel the hot water try to splash across it. Another snicker sounds behind me, and then her hands are on me, pushing aside the folds of my labia, tweaking my clit, toying with my entrance until I am _desperate_ for her to fuck me already.

"Keep quiet," she orders, and I bite my tongue. I was _just_ about to let out a little squeal of impatience. But she runs this show. If I stood up and informed her I really truly wanted to stop, she would acquiesce. I don't know how I know, but I do. But this… voluntary giving of myself, her taking what's offered and pushing for a little more – a little more of my body, a little more of my submission, a little more of my _patience_ – is erotic as all hell.

My thoughts are derailed when I feel the same hot, probing tongue that had laid full claim to my mouth and throat pushing through my labia. I yelp, quickly stifling it as I remember her directive to me, fisting my hands as her tongue reaches my clit, giving it a quick tease. It moves on far too quickly, however, moving up through my labia toward my entrance, and then her tongue buries itself inside of me and I might just pass out. It is delicious and delightful and yet still not enough. Not deep enough, not full enough, not stretched enough. Far too delicate. But it is more than I had before so I will take it.

She pulls back abruptly and smacks my ass. "Greedy little slut," she growls, and I realize that I had pushing against her face, trying to take more of her. My face flushes hot – how I was not already blushing profusely I have no idea, as this kind of encounter is _entirely_ unlike me – and I whimper.

"You want more, don't you?" she asks. I feel fingers reappear on my labia, toying with me.

I bite my lip, nod once, twice, trying desperately not to wriggle my hips or push back. She's _right there_. If I move two inches back, she'll be inside me.

God, I have absolutely no shame.

She says nothing as she suddenly pushes inside me. I gasp, throwing my head back, arching my back as she continues, _starting_ with three fingers, completely filling me up, stretching me almost beyond my limit. It's been a while since I've had sex. I'm not used to it. She gives me no time to adjust, no starting with two before she goes for three. It is too much.

It is _perfect_.

She does give me some time to adjust, kissing and nipping my hips and lower back as she stays patiently inside of me so the pain-to-pleasure ratio skews further toward the latter. I am grateful. I like this, but I don't actually want it to be painful.

God, this woman walks the line of too much – too much dominance, too much size, too much force – like a fucking acrobat, never truly falling off into the Land of Actually Too Much. Please don't tell me this is going to be a one-time thing? I might just cry.

She begins moving, no extra lubrication required, her build-up doing the trick beautifully. Now she slides out of me and pushes back in, deeper this time, her knuckles the most lovely of almost painful stretches, and I gasp again, ending in a groan as she keeps moving. She is taking me, plain and simple. I am hers to claim, and she is laying _thorough_ claim. God, this is… divine torture. The fact that I can't move my hands makes it all the more wicked and delightful.

She hasn't even let me touch her.

I don't last long once she reaches around to tease my clit. One, two, three flicks, and I'm coming, _hard_. She buries as deep inside of me as she can, working my g-spot as I buck against her, prolonging it until I don't know time anymore. I know only convulsing waves of pleasure, minimizing in magnitude but not any less enjoyable.

Until it is too much and I sag. She takes her cue, hand leaving my clit. She gently pulls her fingers from my core, stroking me lovingly, causing a shiver to run down my spine. She leans over, kisses my labia lightly, and then her hands are on me, pulling me into her lap, cradling me. The biotics are gone from my wrists, but all I can manage is to fold my arms between us and nuzzle in to her glorious breasts. She presses a kiss to my forehead.

After a few minutes I look up at her. "You owe me a swimsuit."

She smirks. "I owe you a swim _bottom_. And you didn't seem to mind, sweetcheeks."

I didn't, it's true. But I ignore that fact. "I'll forward you my size, and you can have it waiting the next time we dock." I nuzzle back into her chest before continuing. "Jack, that was… oh, it was so good. Perfect."

Her hand strokes my hair. "What can I say? I do good work."

"So, shall I do you? Get back into submissive character, you can ride my face or something?"

Jack shakes her head. "This was _your_ fantasy, Sam. I can wait. Thanks for finding a way for me to piss off the fucking cheerleader, though. That was sweet satisfaction in and of itself."

I grin, sitting up on her lap. "Be honest. You were _totally_ thinking about her seeing it when you were leaving all these hickies."

Jack grins back. "Yeah, I was. It's fucking hot, the way you wanted me to take you and show off at the same time."

"Well then," I say, standing up, taking her hand. "There's a lovely bed in here, and I believe a lock on the door, as well. Why don't you let me show you how _grateful_ I am that you indulged such a reckless voyeuristic fantasy of mine?"

Her eyes flash, and she is up and following me through the bedroom without a word.

* * *

_A/N: This request brought to you by Revan's Mask!_

_She (I'm assuming) asked for Jack and Sam, either at the Citadel party or after the war. The D/s play and roleplay were me. Also, I decided to play with first-person POV as well as present-tense. Let me know if I missed any spots where I slip into past-tense. I'm more accustomed to writing 3rd person and past-tense, and when I do something different I have to be way more mindful, which means mistakes sometimes slip in._

_Hope you're enjoying these! Thanks for all the reviews and favs!_


	4. Chapter 4

"Thane, I…"

Tali stands just inside the door to Life Support, one hand clutching the wall for support. She is incredibly nervous. She was just visiting Mordin, and he has pronounced her ready to do this. Now her heart pounds, and her knees threaten to give out. But she looks upon Thane, and she can do nothing but smile. She wants this. She wants to be with him.

She takes another step inside, allowing the door to slide shut.

"Tali," he says, his inky black eyes blinking in their strange, reptilian way. He gets to his feet, comes to her side. He says nothing. All the words have been said. They have _exhausted_ their words in preparation, as words are all they have been able to exchange. They cannot even kiss with her mask on as it always is.

She reaches for him, drawing him near, looking up into his face as his arms wrap around her waist. He looks down almost impassively, but she has learned to read the slight pull of the smile on his lips, the slight hooding of his eyes as he looks down upon her with affection in his eyes. They have spent many hours in each other's arms, just talking, sometimes sleeping. They show affection in what ways they can.

But tonight that will change.

Reaching for her mask, she searches for the release mechanism, something she only uses when she is in a clean room on a sterile ship.

"Tali, wait," Thane's scratchy, beautiful voice comes to her, softly, as it always does. "Are you sure? I do not wish to hurt you later. I am a dying man, and I-"

"Shhh," she says, laying a hand over his lips. "None of that tonight. We _all_ could die when we go through the relay. I don't want to focus on that right now. I want to focus on you and I, together, and very much alive. Right now. Right here." As she finishes, she finds the catch and depresses it. There is a decompression sound, and she feels the rush of air as the faceplate falls away. It is strange.

Then she is seeing Thane's face without the filter of her faceplate. He looks upon her in wonder, his eyes widening and his mouth opening. Then she is surrounded in his earthy scent of leather and the tea he drinks, and her whole world is this man in whose arms she is encircled.

"Tali, you…"

Her heart hammers in her chest. "What?"

His hands steals to her cheek, and she leans into it, cherishing the sensation of someone _touching her skin_. She closes her eyes as he murmurs, "You're more beautiful than I imagined."

When she opens her eyes again, he is closer, and then they are kissing, and her body is awash in a sea of unfamiliar and _wonderful_ sensations. The kiss is softer than she would expect with his reptilian lips. His tongue is warm, his scent heady, his rough hands on her cheeks a striking juxtaposition to the softness of his mouth.

When he pulls away she takes hold of the leather at his shoulders. "I want to feel more of you," she whispers, and he obliges, shrugging out of the coat, lifting his shirt over his head before taking her face in his hands once more and kissing her again. And again. And again.

After a time it is not enough, and she maneuvers him over to his small cot. Making him sit, she steps back. His eyes on her, she proceeds to rid herself of the rest of her suit, piece by piece, section-seal by section-seal coming undone and exposing all of her to the open air. It has been _months_ since she experienced this feeling upon her skin, and _never_ has she experienced it with another. His eyes are large and bright as he watches her, utterly serious. He understands, as much as one who will never experience it can, how monumental this is. She is a virgin to so much more than sex. She is new to emotional intimacy, to nudity, to these sensations that have nothing to do with him upon her skin.

But of course, she is also new to him, to having him there, to having anyone with her. She normally experiences everything new alone, in her own little bubble of safety within her suit. Now, she does this, disrobes, risking disease and infection if Mordin Solus is not right about the injections he has given the both of them. She does it willingly, heart pounding with both nerves and anticipation, so that she may be closer to this wonderful man who looks upon her with wonder and understanding and _acceptance_. He understands the gift she is giving him. And he will cherish it.

Tali is naked now, standing on the cold metal floor. She shivers. She is accustomed to the perfect environmental controls of her suit. It is sophisticated. She is constantly surrounded, at all times, by technological sophistication. Shedding that is required for intimacy, to get close to others. The very thing that keeps her alive is literally a barrier between her experiencing communion with others, of her own species or outside of them. It strikes her as ironic. The quarians only repopulate deliberately. Still they rely so heavily on technology, despite their technology being what drove them from their home.

Her racing thoughts are derailed by Thane's simple gesture of lifting his hand, palm out. She smiles, suddenly aware he can _see_ it, and places her smaller, more delicate hand in his. His skin is hard against her unblemished skin, the plates of his scales smooth yet unyielding as their skin slides together. She is pulled forward, and they shift until she is on her back, his body atop hers. The sheets and pillow feel strange to her, but it is quickly forgotten as his mouth finds hers again.

Somehow, they separate long enough for the rest of his clothing to come off, and then they lay, skin-to-skin. She feels his arousal against her, feels the wetness between her legs, feels the dry, smooth planes of his body, against the soft malleability of her own. It strikes her that they are a dichotomy, his body all scales and plates, hers yielding skin. His arousal is hard and stiff, hers soft and slick, supple.

"What are you thinking?"

Tali blinks, realizing she is getting lost in her thoughts despite all these new sensations. She is accustomed to keeping her own counsel, as is he. Part of all their talking has been to exercise that muscle that both of them have allowed to atrophy.

Her hand steals up to his face. "You. Your body. My body. What's about to happen."

"Are you nervous?" he asks, turning to kiss the palm on his cheek.

She nods. "Yes. But… also excited. I have wanted this with you for a while now. I still don't believe it's happening."

He smiles. "We can thank the gods for the miracle of science, then."

She giggles. It cuts off in a sigh as he shifts, parting her legs with his knees. She feels him there, against her most intimate place that not even _she_ has touched bare and aroused like this, and she is surprised to find she wants nothing more than for him to push into her. She does not know if it will hurt. She did not catch a glimpse of his aroused member before he was on top of her again, enclosed as it was within his body at the time. But she trusts him.

That is all that matters in this.

"You are beautiful Tali. I… am so honored, to be given this gift, to be able to give you this experience. I hope I do not disappoint."

"Are you _you_?" she asks.

He is confused, but answers, "I am no one else but myself."

"Then that is what I want. I want _you_. I don't think you can disappoint by being exactly what I want."

He does not answer. He kisses her, his whole body surging forward and into her. She gasps into his mouth, her hands clutching at his shoulders. He is inside her, and there is a stretch, and a slight pain, but it feels oh so good. Like she is sheltering him. He moans, his arms around her back, his hands cradling her head, and he is sheltering her as she clings to him. They shelter each other, moving together, sliding, undulating, their bodies flowing together and apart. It is right, and it is good, and it is everything Tali has hoped for. To be with this wonderful man, to give him this last gift of love and intimacy before he dies, possibly before they both die.

Her climax comes crashing on her in waves, and then he, too, stiffens, burying his face in her throat as she feels him release. She doesn't remember their exact words later, only that there are words of love, of comfort, and then she is falling asleep in his arms, her suit still strewn about the floor. She would risk much for this closeness. Tomorrow she will risk much for the galaxy, for the fight against the Reapers, to take down the Collectors. Tonight, she risks much for this one person.

She would have it no other way.

* * *

_A/N: _Request by Raven Sinead. It ended up being a lot more sweet and feelsy and a lot less smutty than I intended when starting this silly series. But I couldn't imagine these two doing anything but loving, intimate lovemaking. So that's what I wrote.

I hope this works for y'all. :)


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